Virgin: Undone by the Billionaire. Jennie Lucas
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gave her a slow-rising grin that she felt to her toes. “I think you’re lying.”
She sucked in her breath, tried to regain control. “I told you, I need to go to work.”
“And I’ll take you there. After breakfast.”
“Breakfast?” she whispered. “You mean breakfast at … at a restaurant? With food?”
“That is how breakfast is usually done.” His eyes gleamed wickedly, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. He glanced up at her town house. “Unless you want to invite me inside.” He stroked her inner wrist beneath her glove, making her tremble all over in a flash of heat. “I rather like the idea of you cooking for me.”
Swallowing, she glanced back at the town house, where her baby was playing with Mrs. O’Keefe. Oh, my God. At any moment, the widow could come out with Ruby for their morning walk.
She had to get Roark out of here!
She whirled to face him, ripping her hand away from his touch. Her eyes glittered. “If I made you breakfast, I’d dump salt in it, boxes and boxes.”
He gently stroked her chin. “You don’t mean that.”
“Count yourself lucky it wasn’t rat poison!”
His smile broadened. “You’re quite a woman, Lia.”
“And you’re quite a rat. Don’t ever try and push me into another broom closet. If you even think of—”
“No more closets, I swear.” But even as she exhaled in relief, he finished in a low, dark voice, “The next time I take you, Lia, you’ll be in my bed.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
LIA took another sip of the fragrant strong coffee, rich with cream and sugar, from a tiny cup painted with pale-blue flowers and traced in twenty-four-karat gold.
The owner of the expensive French café sprang forward to refill her cup as she set it down, but she covered it with her hand. “No more for me, thank you, Pierre. I’ll just finish this, then go.”
The manager nodded sagely. “Oui, madame. Of course. But,” he said with a tsk, “we’ve missed Mademoiselle Ruby today. I hope she is well?”
Lia nearly choked on her coffee. She felt Roark watching her.
“She’s very well,” she managed. “She just … couldn’t make it today.”
“I’m glad to hear that, madame.” Bowing, he backed away respectfully.
“Who’s Ruby?” Roark inquired.
Lia’s teeth chattered. When Roark had allowed her to choose the restaurant, she’d picked her favorite place. She’d thought it would make her feel comfortable, that it would make her feel calm and strong enough to face Roark.
How could she have failed to consider the fact that Pierre served her and Ruby brunch every Sunday? He adored the baby. He always brought her little origami cranes which he made for her out of the linen napkins.
Rattled, Lia scraped the last of her syrup on the very last bit of waffle and stuffed it all in her mouth.
“Ruby’s a friend,” she mumbled. “Just a good friend.”
A very good friend indeed. The darling of Lia’s life, the cutest baby in the world, who’d just learned to crawl. Swallowing the lump of waffle, she stood up so abruptly that her napkin fell to the floor. “I’m done. Let’s go.”
Lia almost expected Roark to fight her, to insist that she stay. Or worse—to pick her up in his strong arms and drag her to some hotel room.
But he didn’t. He just paid the bill, took her hand and escorted her back to where his driver awaited them outside.
As the Rolls-Royce edged slowly through the mid-morning traffic, she slowly started to breathe again. Was it really that easy? By some miracle, would he leave her like he’d promised?
“Right up here,” she told the driver. Relief flashed through her when she saw the nineteenth-century building that contained her tiny West Side office. She’d made it!
“Goodbye, Roark,” she told him, opening her door. “Thanks for breakfast. Good luck in Asia.”
“Wait.” He grabbed her wrist. She took a long, shuddering breath, then turned back to face him. He looked up at her. “Invite me inside.”
“To my office? Why?”
He gave her a wicked grin that made her hair curl, that made her body feel sweaty all over even as her breath froze like smoke in the cold winter air. “I want to help you.”
“Help me?” she whispered. “How?”
“I want to donate money for your park.”
The same park he’d done his best to destroy? The colossal cheek of the man! Fury raced through her.
“You lying bastard!” she burst out. “Do you really think I’m stupid enough to believe you want to help me?”
He snorted, giving her a lazy half smile. “I think I can see why you’re having a hard time raising money.”
“Of course I don’t talk to real donors that way. But you’re not serious!”
His eyes met hers, all trace of his smile gone. “What would it take to show you how serious I am?”
She chewed her lip.
She did need donations for the park. They were still twenty million short, and it would be a miracle if they could get that much together by March, when the landscaping bids would be completed.
But getting Roark out of New York before he found out she’d had his baby was even more important than raising money for the park.
She could just refuse him, of course. But every time she’d run away from Roark, it only made him pursue her more. Like any dangerous wolf or bear, he seemed maddened by the sight of prey running away.
So what if she didn’t run away?
What if instead she gave him exactly what he wanted? Wouldn’t that make him lose interest? The only reason he continued to pursue her was because she didn’t want him. In a world where every other woman on the planet lived to serve him in every way possible, he must have found Lia’s hatred an intriguing novelty.
But if she’d actually wanted to be his girlfriend, a playboy like Roark wouldn’t have been able to run from her fast enough. Throwing herself at him would be the easiest way to get rid of him.
But … throw herself at him? The idea terrified her. She couldn’t do it.
She would just have to allay his suspicions, accept his money and then pray he would leave.
“Fine,” she ground out, turning away with ill grace. “You can come into my office long enough to write your check.”
“Very generous of you,” he said, getting out of the Rolls-Royce behind her.
He followed her into the building, up the rickety old elevator to the rooms on the third floor that Lia had rented for her foundation. There were two offices—one for Emily, one for Lia—and a front waiting room that held some chairs where their receptionist answered the phones.
The girl looked up breathlessly when she saw Roark. He smiled at her casually, and Lia could see the effect it had on Sarah. She gawked at dark, handsome Roark as if she’d never seen a man before.
For some reason it annoyed Lia. “Good morning, Sarah,” she said. “Do you have the preliminary list?”
“Hmm?” It took several seconds before the receptionist even seemed to realize Lia was with him. “Um. Right. Yes, I have it, Lia. Here it is.”
“This